


String Theory

by countingpaperstars



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, An ungodly amount of puns, Angst, Blow Job, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Crying, Cuddling, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurity, Jealousy, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Minor Injuries, Multi, Nightmares, Prince! Prompto, Role Reversal, Tenderness, Vulnerability, World of Ruin, bee sting, proms boyfriends want him to wear glasses more, scourge! noctis, soft angst, will continue to update but I'm marking it as complete since most of the drabbles are separate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 14:16:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16914453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingpaperstars/pseuds/countingpaperstars
Summary: A collection of ficlets from various prompt and request fills.Most Recent:“I didn’t mean to startle it!” Freezing in place, Prompto’s eyes well up in distress. “Noctis, what if I killed it! I’m a murderer!”





	1. Promptio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first seven chapters are from a Hundred Words Challenge I did, though a few have two options for when I couldn't choose what direction to go in. It was really interesting to have a limit, as it made every word choice count, and I had a lot of fun trying it out! The fills after that are on the longer side if that's more your speed. I'll post short descriptions and any warnings before each ficlet so you're able to choose which you want to read! I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> **40\. “Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”  
> **  
>  **123\. “Oh, did I scare you, big boy?”**
> 
> Flirty

“Nice form.”

Gladio startles from the pose he’d stretched into, arm giving way as he crashes to the unyielding haven stone.

“Oh, did I scare you, big boy?” Prompto asks, poorly concealing his amusement. “I’m sorry.”

Rolling his eyes, Gladio can’t even attempt to hide his own smile. “Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

“Aww, there must be _something_ I can do to make it up to you,” says Prompto, sidling up close against him as he stands up.

“I’m sure there is,” Gladio says, smiling fondly as he pulls Prompto in to kiss the grin off his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/countpaperstars) | [writing blog](http://countingpaperstars.tumblr.com) | [tumblr](http://thenameisfame.tumblr.com)


	2. Promptis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **111\. “You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't decide between fluffy or angsty for this one so I did both. The fluffy one is set more in brotherhood and the angsty one follows the beginning canon events of the game.

“Aww, c’mon Noct, it’s not my fault I’m such a good shot,” teases Prompto, reaching out to console him.

“Nuh uh,” Noctis says, dropping the darts as he ducks around him to flop on the couch with a huff. “You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.”

Laughing, Prompto follows suit, latching on to him even though Noctis keeps up his stiff posturing. “You love me,” he teases, squeezing his arms until he feels Noctis cave, shoulders melt into the warm contact.

When he finally moves to pull Prompto in closer, he’s smiling fondly. “Yeah,” Noctis sighs. “I do.”

* * *

Prompto finds Noctis out at the end of the fishing dock. He’s just sitting there, looking down into the water, and that’s just a testament to how much everything’s gone to shit. Easing down onto the wood beside him, Prompto hesitantly reaches out to pull him in close.

“You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay,” says Noctis, voice thick.

And god does Prompto want to fix it – make it so Noctis would never know this loss of a father and country all at once. “I know,” he says, but he doesn’t let go and Noctis holds on harder.


	3. Promptis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **113\. “I prefer blondes.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write!
> 
> Flirty.

The girl who approaches Noctis is gorgeous – a goddess with flowing red hair and vibrant eyes that wears all her poise and elegance like she was born with it. Prompto stares down at his drink on the bar and tries not to look like he’s watching too closely.

“No Luck?” he asks when Noctis appears next to him, trying quickly to rein in his pout, but it’s too late.

“Aw Prom,” Noctis laughs, reaching up to tug at a lock of Prompto’s hair before pressing in close to whisper in his ear with a smirk. “You know I prefer blondes.”


	4. Polyship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **#4. “Who gave you that black eye?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be read as polyship or gen! Hurt/comfort with a warning for implied bullying.

Breathing deeply, Prompto opens the door and pastes a smile on his face. “Wow, smells amazing in here, what’s cooking Iggy?”

It’s silent, everyone staring as he shuffles his feet. Well, so much for that plan.

“Prompto, is there something you’d like to tell us?” Ignis asks and he shrugs.

Noctis’ face is stormy. “Who gave you that black eye?”

“I–I got it in training, alright?”

“Like hell it is. That’s not a fair hit!” fumes Gladio.

And then they’re all around him, fussing with worried hands on his face and in his hair, and Prompto knows it’ll be okay.


	5. Ignoct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **21\. “He’s a bad kisser.”  
>  62\. “You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”  
> 73\. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fill with two options! The first is more sweet flirty and the second is more sultry flirty with a bit of implied sexual content at the end.

“He’s a bad kisser,” groans Noctis, “terrible! At this rate, I’ll never know what it’s like to actually _enjoy_ kissing.”

Ignis hums noncommittally, turning a page in his book. He sighs when Noctis flops sideways over onto his lap, tugging his arm and whining, “Ignis, pity me.”

Sighing, Ignis and sets his book aside, before leaning down and kissing him, if only to shut him up. A quiet noise of surprise slips out from Noctis and then he’s pushing back eagerly. Ignis lingers and then pulls away.

“Satisfied?” he asks and Noctis blushes and buries his face in Ignis’ shirt.

* * *

When Ignis gets back to his apartment all the lights are off, but he’s only half-surprised when in his room he finds a lump curled under the blankets. He moves as quietly as he can about the room in his nightly routine.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” a voice mumbles from the bed and Ignis smiles, stepping over to bend down and pull Noctis in for a lazy kiss.

When he pulls back he grins and asks, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“Was waiting for you,” moans Noctis, and pulls him down.


	6. Polyship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **#108. “Have you seen my contacts?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto's boyfriends want him to wear his glasses more and conspire together to make it happen. This was another favorite of mine to write <3
> 
> Fluffy

Stomping out of the bathroom, Prompto rummages through his bag. “Have you seen my contacts?”

“Nope, can’t say I have,” says Noctis. He shoots a glance across the motel room at Ignis, whose poker face is perfect, and Gladio, who’s barely restraining a laugh.

“They’ll show up,” says Ignis. “I’m sure your eyes will appreciate the break.”

Sighing in resignation, Prompto pulls out a pair of glasses and slides them onto his face. “Great, now I have to wear these dumb things.”

“They suit you,” says Gladio. Prompto blushes, slumping down next to Noctis who laughs and kisses his cheek.


	7. Polyship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **11\. “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”  
>  12\. “I’m pregnant.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to take an unconventional approach to these ones. 
> 
> Humor, warning for light injury.

It takes fifteen minutes to staunch the blood and move Gladio from the middle of the forest to settle in the back of the Regalia. “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass,” he grits out.

Prompto whines, climbing in the front seat and turning to look over the headrest with wide eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know that was the last potion,” he says. “Besides y-you can’t die! I’m pregnant!”

Noctis snorts and props Gladio’s leg up as he groans, “The hell you are. Ignis, drive!”

“On it,” he says, but there’s a smile hidden in his voice.


	8. Polyship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **6\. “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my heart, this one hurt to write.
> 
> Angst, World of Ruin

It’s dark when Prompto wakes up.

Unsurprising, since it’s basically dark all the time now. Sound filters in even through the closed window from Lestallum’s busy streets below, packed full of people with disoriented internal clocks. Chaos is normal these days, though it’s slowly settling the more time they have to become organized and adjusted to the new reality.

He sucks in a huge breath and tries to be quiet about it, but it’s hard to be discreet when you’re tucked in the middle of the bed. It was only practical for them to room together once back in town. It’s crowded enough with refugees seeking safety from the scourge running rampant outside. Sometimes the distance between them still feels too large, ripped at the seams in Gralea, and Prompto feels his hands shaking as he scratches at his wrist.

“Prompto?”

A hand reaches out searchingly and finds his back, sliding down the threadbare t-shirt as Ignis sits up beside him. Prompto tries to lean into it rather than pull away, but it’s hard when the memories of Zegnautus are still fresh and it’s so goddamn _dark_. Ignis is murmuring soothingly in his ear, hand rubbing rhythmically up and down Prompto’s back.

“Hey, hey,” says Gladio from the other side, finally waking up enough to sit up. He cups the back of Prompto’s neck, pulls him in to rest his forehead against his strong shoulder. “Calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

He reaches out to pull Ignis in as well, sandwiching Prompto between them. None of them mention Prompto’s stuttered breaths as he finally relaxes into the hold, eyes stinging as he comes back to where they are. None of them mention the ghosts that followed him back from Gralea.

None of them mention the empty space between them.

It settles a little more each day, painful and aching but becoming more and more like a worn-in coat he wears every day. Prompto wonders if that makes him horrible, to actually be _adjusting_ to the loss, but he thinks Noctis would rather his energy be spent helping out best he can in this nightmare the world has become.

His fingers curl in Gladio’s hair that’s growing out long and tangled, the others wrapped tightly around Ignis’ free hand. It isn’t the same, but it’s enough. And for now… for now they’ll try to heal together best they can around the frayed threads where Noctis should be.


	9. Ignoct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **89\. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for nsfw content!

As much as the opposite is assumed by Ignis’ coworkers, he does not like filling out reports. He likes it even less when Noctis is making impatient noises at him from over on the couch. They’re a necessary task though – one that he does diligently, papers fanned out across the dining table across the room.

“Specs –“

“Noct,” Ignis huffs, rubbing at his eyes as the words and numbers blur a little. “I’m not finished.”

On the couch, Noctis pouts at him upside-down from where he’s leaned back over the arm. “But you’ve been at it for _hours_.”

“Well perhaps if I had some assistance it’d be done more quickly,” he says pointedly, pressing the pen so firmly to the paper that it accidentally blots. The pause menu music the latest video game obsession fills the room, soft piano music that seems to actual help with Ignis’ concentration.

Then Noctis groans loudly, rolling off the couch to flop onto the floor. “Iggyyy,” he whines, “please.”

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me gods,” says Ignis, but he can’t hold back the amused twitch of his lips at the scene. It goes quiet again and he gets back into the thick of it, leaning his head against his hand as he tries to figure out where the hell the last few numbers came from.

When a hand brushes his calf, he jumps – slamming his knee against the table in shock. “N-Noct,” he says, pushing back enough to see him grinning widely from the floor.

As he slides his hand slowly up Ignis’ leg, the smugness never fades. “Do your reports Ignis,” he says in that tone he rarely uses – the one that _demands_ and offers no room for argument. Ignis knows that if he asked him, Noctis would stop no question, but his will has weakened under the stack of files and papers and he swallows thickly before turning back to his work.

His pen jumps across the page slightly as the hands return, sliding their way back up the ironed press of Ignis’ slacks before settling at his belt and making quick work of it. Breathing out slowly, he tries desperately to ignore how Noct’s fingers work him free, stroking teasingly until all the blood in his body settles somewhere decidedly not where he needs it to be.

Ignis gives up the pretense of working when Noct’s slick mouth wraps around him, easing down slowly before retreating. It’s too hot, the warmth spiking in Ignis’ gut the more he’s teased and the hand not clenched around his pen makes its way down to wrap tightly in Noct’s hair. He tugs, not forcing, and it drags a moan out from around Ignis’ cock, quickly followed by his own.

He imagines what Noctis looks like underneath the table – his prince disheveled on his knees and tucked away from prying eyes solely for Ignis’ enjoyment. For him and no one else.

The thought leaves him breathless and he tries to stifle his groan at the thought, but isn’t successful if Noct’s renewed enthusiasm is anything to judge by. The wet sounds in the room get louder as he bobs his head, tongue pressing the tip against the washboard roof of his mouth every time he pulls back.

Too soon Ignis feels the edge creeping up and he drops the pen with a clatter, using his grip in Noct’s hair to tug him off completely, leaning back to stare at him between his legs. The smug look is back, amplified by the flush of his lips and cheeks and the dampness in his eyes.

“Bedroom,” says Ignis breathlessly. “Now.”

The reports can wait until tomorrow.


	10. Promnyx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for the request "Prompto meets his boyfriend's friends for the first time"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up writing more about _getting ready_ to meet them than actually meeting them haha
> 
> Fluff

By the time Nyx’s boots are laced Prompto’s changed his outfit again.

He’s pressed up close near the mirror, adjusting and readjusting the feathered strands of his hair, tongue poking out from between his teeth. Leaning against the door jam with his arms crossed, Nyx can’t help the utterly smitten grin he catches on his own face in the reflection.

“We’re just grabbing a bite and a drink,” he says, the fondness seeping its way into his voice. “It’s not one of those fancy estate dinners.”

With a snort, Prompto steps back to consider himself. “Maybe I should…” he starts, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Nyx swoops in to stop what’s shaping up to become yet another wardrobe change, pressing up along Prompto’s back, arms wrapping firmly around his chest. “You look fine, sunshine,” he says, ducking his head to press a tender kiss to the freckles at the base of his neck. He smirks into the warm skin at the shiver it evokes.

“I guess,” huffs Prompto, slouching back into Nyx’s hold. “I just want to make a good impression.” He’s frowning, which is one of Nyx’s least favorite expressions on him.

“It’s not like they don’t already know who you are,” he points out in an attempt to reassure. Between practically the whole citadel knowing who the prince’s best friend is to Prompto’s steady Crownsguard training, it’s hardly a first introduction.

Prompto whirls around in Nyx’s arms, staring up at him with large eyes. “Yeah but this time they’ll know I’m your -” He cuts off, blushing fiercely.

“Hmm?” he goads as he leans down close to breathe hotly over Prompto’s ear, hands sliding down the curve of his back to rest at the base of his spine. There’s a mix of pride and a particular brand of smug glee burning tight in Nyx’s chest. “My what?”

Giggling, Prompto squirms at the teasing touch and loops his arms around Nyx’s neck to lean up with a wide smile. “Boyfriend,” he finishes, whispering it between them like a shared breath.

They stare, Prompto up on his tip toes and devastatingly beautiful even in the flat, yellow light of the bathroom. His lashes fan his cheeks starkly as he blinks, gaze dipping down in an obvious hint, and Nyx indulges him - moving in for a slow, close-mouthed kiss. They linger, eyes half-lidded as they meet again and again with the slow intention to mold and press. One of Nyx’s hands slides up to cradle Prompto’s jaw, careful of the hair he’s worked so painstakingly on, and tilts the angle deeper. It drags a soft noise from him that makes Nyx want to hold tighter and mold closer until they’re practically indistinguishable, but he pulls away when Prompto tugs at a braid that’s fallen over his own shoulder. Crowe will kill him if they skip out.

Breathless, he touches his forehead to Prompto’s gently and stares at the flush rising up underneath his freckles. “They already love you, you don’t need to show up all fancy,” he says, stroking his thumb underneath Prompto’s eye.

_“I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time,” says Libertus with a swig from his bottle._

_“Yeah it’s weird,” adds Crowe teasingly before her smile turns serious. “He’s good for you, Nyx. Don’t lose ‘im.”_

“Ohhh I see now,” says Prompto, grinning conspiratorially. “You’re just jealous that your friends will finally realize that I’m way cooler than you.”

Tugging him in for a hug, Nyx scoffs and tucks his nose against the firm line of Prompto’s shoulder. He thinks of Galahd, thinks of all he lost – his family, his home. Selena… She’d be happy for him, he thinks, for finally piecing together a new one; for finding someone to build his hearth with. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he says softly.

Prompto pulls back so fast that Nyx scrambles to hide his vulnerability in a knee jerk reaction he’s had to work on kicking since they started seeing each other. He grimaces, but it smooths out when Prompto cups his cheeks and smiles up at him fondly.

“You do,” he says, and Nyx dives back in, heart swelling enough to threaten spilling out onto the tile floor. It’s different this time, sloppy and ardent as he pours it all into the kiss instead. The ticking clock slips out of his mind, but hey, Libs and Crowe can wait a few extra minutes.


	11. Promptio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **6\. “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”  
>  29\. “I need you to stay here with me.”   
> 73\. “I don’t love you anymore.” **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this one and I'd love to expand more on it someday if I ever have the time!
> 
> Hurt/comfort and warning for blackmail.

It’s late enough that Gladio has to turn on the corner and desk lamp in his office at the citadel in order to keep working. He hates pulling late-nighters, but the report he’s been working on needs to be turned in tomorrow morning or Ignis will be on his tail. There’s hardly anyone else here, all empty halls apart from the night time staff and those that live in the residential wing, so when there’s a knock at the door he jumps before composing himself enough to call out a greeting. He’s even more surprised when he sees who it is.

“Hey,” Gladio says, urgently standing to round the desk. He reaches out to gently touch Prompto’s shoulder, but he shies away.

His posture is all wrong, one hand holding the opposite elbow as his eyes flicker skittishly around the dark wood walls of the room. “We need to talk,” he says, sounding as unsteady as he looks.

Gladio’s heart stutters in his chest, a chill creeping down his spine, and not being able to touch Prompto is killing him. He twists his hands, the obvious distance between them sending his stomach lurching. 

“Of course,” he says neutrally and moves to sit in one of the armchairs, motioning Prompto to take the other. “What’s going on?”

Prompto takes a deep breath and stares down at his hands. He hasn’t looked at Gladio once since he entered the office. “We need to breakup,” he says, matter-of-fact, and Gladio’s thoughts slam to a stop.

“What,” Gladio asks flatly and watches Prompto pick at his nails. Then he laughs, incredulous and stilted, before cutting off abruptly at the way Prompto curls in on himself. “You can’t be serious.”

This isn’t real. They’d just talked that afternoon on the phone and Prompto had seemed fine - upbeat and joking about Gladio being so absolutely buried under paperwork that he’d have to dig him out when their lunch date rolls around tomorrow. Everything rushes through Gladio’s mind fast enough to give him a headache stronger than the numbers had. What had changed so much to make him want to end this? End _them_. It had taken a long enough to even end up together – hell they’d fought for this – and now he wants to just give it all up? In the plush armchair, Prompto looks small and defeated.

“Where… is this coming from?” Gladio asks.

“We just-” Prompto stops, shakes his head. “We need to breakup. I’m sorry,” he chokes out and abruptly stands, making for the door.

“Wah – hold on a minute!” says Gladio, chasing after him. He cuts him off at the door. “Prom…” he says softly, voice hitching. He still won’t look up from the floor, staring hard with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. “You can’t mean it! Prom, _I love you_. I thought… we were going good? I thought we were planning for long-term.”

“Yeah, well… you thought wrong,” says Prompto but it sounds weird - harsh and jerky like he shoved it out of his mouth all at once.

“Prom, talk to me,” says Gladio, keeping his voice as steady as he can so as to not let on just how much his heart is cracking in his ribs. He ducks his head, trying to catch Prompto’s eye.

“No Gladio,” says Prompto, sounding wavering and wet. “I d-don’t love you a-anymore,” he says, fractured and broken. It’s then that he starts crying, tears barely visible where they glint in the low lighting. 

This isn’t right, Gladio thinks and all at once the panic inside him halts, fading into a grim acceptance. There has to be something else underneath it.

“Look at me,” he says lowly, and reaches out to cup Prompto’s face gently. Prompto leans into his hand and the small, familiar touch sends Gladio’s heart fluttering. “What’s going on?” he asks again, stroking his thumb along Prompto’s damp cheek.

Wordlessly, Prompto digs out his phone and passes it over. It’s unlocked to his email, a folder marked vaguely as ‘requests’ and Gladio skims the subject lines, growing angrier and angrier as he goes. By the time he hits the last one, time-stamped for over a month ago, he has to remind himself of his own strength so he won’t break the damn thing.

He quickly forwards the most recent one with his signature to Ignis before passing it back and wrapping an arm around Prompto, who buries his face into Gladio’s shirt. They’re quiet and as Gladio sways gently, Prompto slumps further into him. A minute later, his own cell phone rings and he digs it out of his pocket without letting go to answer.

“Ignis,” he says in greeting, and cups his hand comfortingly on Prompto’s nape to keep his forehead pressed to the curve of Gladio’s shoulder.

“This better be a joke Gladiolus,” is the answer, Ignis’ tone deathly sharp and sounding exactly how Gladio feels.

He grinds his teeth before finally answering, “It isn’t.”

“Don’t move,” is all Ignis says before hanging up.

Gladio breathes out a huge sigh and slips his phone back into his pocket before running a hand through Prompto’s hair. “I need you to stay here with me while Ignis takes care of it,” he says and Prompto nods, folding easily when Gladio tugs him over to the short couch pushed against the left wall. His eyes are bleary, face pale beneath the flush on his cheeks and Gladio’s quick to pull him back in to lean against him.

They sit for a good couple hours, Prompto shifting restlessly while Gladio reads out loud from the book that had been sitting on the side table. It’s one of their favorite stories, but neither of them are paying much attention to the plot, the calm and meditative roll of Gladio’s voice filling the empty space of the office. When the phone finally rings again, they both tense as the shrill tone cuts through the air.

“In custody,” says Ignis right off the bat. He sounds tired. “Tell Prompto I’ll be having a word with him tomorrow about safety, but until then,” he says with a sigh, “try and get some rest alright?”

Gladio mumbles and affirmative and hangs up, smoothing a hand along Prompto’s back which is ramrod straight, taut like the string of a bow. “They got ‘em,” he says and a sob hitches in Prompto’s throat. “Hey, hey,” Gladio comforts, dragging him back in to press his face against his shoulder. “Calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I-I’m sorry,” chokes Prompto.

“It’s okay,” says Gladio. “Just don’t scare me like that again, my heart can’t take it,” he jokes, but it falls flat with how shaky his delivery is in the truth of it. “Why didn’t you tell me they’d been blackmailing you?”

“When they found out who I was dating it was just…” Prompto has to stop and take a breath. “It was a joke at first. And then it wasn’t, but – but it was only small things. I thought I could handle it. I - I thought they’d get bored and stop and I didn’t want to worry you,” he says, sniffling still.

He sucks in a hitching breath and continues, “But then the demands got bigger and I was so scared they’d do something to you or Noct or Iggy. I-I couldn’t live with myself if they had.” He breaks down again, and Gladio brings him in closer.

“Shhh,” says Gladio and gathers him up, nudges him towards the door before doubling back to pack his things quickly and shutting the lamps off as he goes. “Let’s go home alright?”

Prompto nods, shuffling his feet and rubbing at his eyes until Gladio flips the last switch by the door. He stops, face and hair lit from the hall light with shadows darkening the angle of his jaw, and he finally, finally looks Gladio right in the eye. “I love you,” he says quietly.

“I know sweetheart,” says Gladio and leans in to press a soft kiss to his tacky cheek. “Let’s go home.”


	12. Promptis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for the prompt "placement inversion, Prompto is the prince and Noctis is the missing enemy weapon that befriended him"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a super interesting concept to explore! I was thinking about what if Lucis and Niflheim’s entire histories were switched and then it turned out much longer than I planned, but I really like how it came out! It’d be cool to write an in-depth AU for this one day (I actually feel that about a lot of these fills but I also need to finish my current wips r.i.p.) Anyway, this is a reverse take on the 'ever at your side' scene.
> 
> Angst, hurt/comfort

Prompto isn’t entirely sure what to do.

He lingers by the doorway, casting his eyes about the ornate room which had once housed some of the upper class of the kingdom of Lucis. The halls are cold and empty now – save for them.

As soon as they’d gotten the generator up and running, Loqi dipped out on pretense of a supply run while Aranea went ahead to scout. Maybe they’ll be able to make heads or tails of the maze of endless floors and wings, but Prompto’s sure it’s mostly an excuse to leave the fancy suite they’ve barricaded themselves in – an excuse to leave them alone.

He tentatively steps over to where Noctis is sat on the couch, head bowed and hands clasped between his knees, and sinks into the plush fabric beside him. His dark fringe shields his face, but they’ve been friends long enough for Prompto to know what he’s thinking.

“Can I see?”

Noctis says nothing, but his fingers tense and relax before he holds out his arm, the one he’s always worn his trademark glove on. It’d been strange sure, his diligence with the accessory, but Prompto had never remarked on it. Some secrets were just not meant to be shared, and he planned to be there for him when the time came, if ever. Though he’d thought it may have been a bad tattoo or maybe a scar of some sort, and in a way he wasn’t that far off. Unfortunately its reveal hadn’t been up to Noctis.

The leather of the glove is smooth under Prompto’s fingers as he slowly peels it off, keeping his touch light enough to pull away from. Noctis still isn’t looking at him, his face barely changing in the corner of Prompto’s eye.

A sharp inhale tears from his throat unbidden, the glove falling to the floor as Noctis flinches, but Prompto holds his grip firm and stares.

It’s worse than he thought.

Tendrils curl around his wrist like a shackle, so black they’re almost purple against the surrounding ashy skin. It’s flat, curbed in its growth unlike those roaming the streets down below – overtaken by the scourge running through their veins. Prompto reaches out to touch, but he hesitates, biting his lip.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, and hates how it comes out choked.

“Sometimes.”

He wonders how many times Noctis had been in pain and said nothing. How many times had he been silently suffering in school? During battle? At camp? Prompto lays his hand over the mark, tries to cover as much of it as he can, but the edges peek out from in-between his fingers. The skin feels the same, not any different from the rest of him.

“Will it…” 

He can’t even finish the question. Thankfully Noctis knows exactly what he means and shrugs. 

“Hasn’t yet,” he says, which makes sense – he’s survived with the brand this long, ever since he was a child here in Insomnia, but it’s not a guarantee for the future. There’s a sniff and Noctis turns away.

“Hey,” says Prompto, reaching up with his free hand to gently tilt his head back towards him. His eyes are glassy, hollow and distant, and Prompto strokes his thumb along the rise of his cheek. “I don’t care, you know that right?”

Noctis leans into his hand - closing his eyes as he takes a shuddering breath, expression scrunching and skin damp beneath Prompto’s palm.

“Where you came from, what they did to you…” The bruises and cuts along his face and arms are dark in the shadows and red hot guilt coils tightly in Prompto’s chest. His hand drops from Noctis’ face. “I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows pull together. “For what?”

“He tricked me and I – I hurt you,” Prompto chokes out. The memories flip through his mind in a rush – the switch, how he’d attacked first and asked questions later, how he’d been so sure he’d _lost_ him – and he stares hard at the brand set deep in Noctis’ fair skin. “Gods, I’m so sorry Noct.”

He jumps when Noctis’ hand comes up to cover his. “You weren’t the only one who fell for it.”

They’re quiet, only the sound of the wind rattling the window panes. It’s pitch black outside, the balance between day and night growing shorter and shorter, and Prompto thinks of his lost home.

“When I reclaim the throne,” he says, seeds of determination taking root in his chest. “I say we break down the borders. What does it matter where you come from anyway?”

It’s more of a wish than a plan, but it makes Noctis laugh, brief and strained, and when Prompto looks up his friend is smiling wryly as if nothing has changed between them – because it hasn’t, not really.

“You with me?” he asks.

Noctis’ hand grips his tightly. “Ever at your side.”


	13. Gladnoct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **3\. “You can’t just leave!”  
>  85\. “You’re a real dick, you know that?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the canon events before Gladio leaves for the Gilgamesh mission.
> 
> Angst, hurt/comfort

“You can’t just leave!”

The words crack at the end and Gladio sighs, glancing over at Ignis and Prompto who’ve both developed a sudden deep interest in the distant lighthouse.

“Wow! Let’s go take a picture of that sunset Iggy!” says Prompto, like the lifesaver he is, and they both take off, away from the scene of Gladio’s impending murder.

It’s been a while since he’s seen Noct this worked up – the road has been hard on him, and the wear of it shows in the bags under his eyes and miles under his boots. His hands clench and relax by his side, shoulders bunching up near his ears, and he jolts back when Gladio reaches out, wrenching the vice around his heart tighter.

“I have to go. You know I do,” he says gently and all the fight drains out of Noctis like water melted in the dusk light as Gladio folds him into his arms, rubbing soothingly along the curve of his back.

He hates to leave, hates the defeat in Noct’s eyes, but… he couldn’t keep him safe. The one thing Gladio’s been training his whole life for, what he spent years honing and learning to accept – that his life was to be put on the line for another’s – and he’d failed.

There’s no other option. He can’t risk living a life without Noctis by his side and knowing he was what should have protected him. One day he’ll understand.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” It’s small and thin, but underneath it is a shaky tease.

Gladio presses a kiss to the crown of his head, soft hair brushing his cheeks as he hugs Noct tightly. “I know.”


	14. Promptio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **71\. “Will you just hold me?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My initial idea for this was playful and humorous but then I had some big Gladio feels and it turned out like this instead.
> 
> Hurt/comfort

Moonlight cuts through the room where the blinds are twisted, a slice of white light across the junky carpet of the motel they’re in tonight. It’s not the best place they’ve stayed, but it certainly hasn’t been the worst either. Prompto should have been asleep hours ago, but sleep has been a fickle visitor - teasing in and out where not needed and vanishing in the small hours of morning. Instead, he watches the moonbeam gradually slide across the floor and thinks of everything and nothing all at once.

When the bed creaks a third time he knows something’s up, the metal springs protesting as Gladio shifts his limbs again. He’s awake - obvious in the way he does it slowly, careful not to stir Prompto. In that sense he’s somewhat successful, if only because Prompto is already wide awake.

He flips over and Gladio freezes, limbs locking up to hold impossibly still as Prompto reaches out to gently settle a hand between the wings of Gladio’s shoulders and whispers, “You okay?”

Across the room the hum of the air con in the window struggles to keep up with the lingering heat of day. It must be one of those nights for them both - when thoughts are louder than any phantom caress of slumber; memories, wishes, regrets. Prompto’s heart thuds when Gladio presses back into his touch and he scrambles to do what he does best.

“If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was ask,” he jokes and Gladio snorts, both of them stilling as the easy pattern of Ignis’ breathing staggers before petering out again.

“Shut up,” says Gladio with a laugh, but his voice wavers. “Will you just hold me?”

Prompto is loathe to ever deny such a request. He shifts under the feather-light sheet, scooting close enough to tuck his arm around the breadth of Gladio’s chest, hand tucking up above the staccato beat of his heart. This motel is higher up on Prompto’s list if only for the hot water supply and the scent of Gladio’s shampoo is warm and floral when he tucks his nose in Gladio’s nape. He’s not tall enough to fully spoon him, but he does his best to curl against his back - to hold and provide a safe haven built in familiar touch.

He doesn’t mention it when Gladio’s breathes grow uneven or the way he shakes and curls a hand over Prompto’s own, holding tight and close as if to prevent the fragments in his chest from falling out. The cover of night’s abstraction settles over them like a blanket, caught in the small hours of existence - a bridge between here and there, today and tomorrow.

When Gladio’s breathing finally evens out his hand falls slack as Prompto squeezes his arms tighter. It’s too hot to be pressed so close, but even as he falls into a fitful sleep of his own, he doesn’t let go.


	15. Polyship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **42\. “Laugh at my jokes. They’re funny and you know it.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware an ungodly amount of puns.
> 
> Fluff, humor

The last thing Prompto’s expecting to hear when he opens the door is a loud, reverberating ‘kweh!’ He stops short, brow scrunched, before hurriedly bending down to rip his shoes off. If there’s a chocobo in Noctis’ apartment, then he’s damn well going to pet it.

Unfortunately there’s no sign of any feathers when he rounds the corner, only the others all perched around the couch - Noctis draped over the back to look over Ignis’ shoulder at his phone and Gladio reclining in the corner. He’s the first to notice Prompto, raising a hand in greeting.

“What’s going on?”

Noctis flicks his phone screen off, silencing the chocobo trills, and slumps over the couch, rolling into Ignis’ lap. “Trying to break Ignis’ politician face,” he says and reaches up to touch said man’s cheek, frowning when his hand is batted away.

“Good afternoon Prompto,” greets Ignis and when their eyes meet his are sparkling with amusement, though nothing else betrays it – not even the subtle twitch of his lips that happens when he’s thought of something good, be it a recipe or a joke or the perfect words to put an annoying councilor in their place. A grin unfurls across Prompto’s lips as his mind races to form a plan.

“We’ve tried _everything_ ,” groans Noctis.

Prompto perches on the edge of the coffee table. “That video I sent you yesterday?”

“Not even a crack!” 

Oh, hi there opening~

“Iggy, you’re too hard boiled,” says Prompto. There’s a twitch, and ah _hah_ , he’s got him.

Rubbing his jaw, Gladio says, “Already tried puns, Prom.”

“Aww Gladio you’re poaching all my best yolks,” he ribs and Noctis giggles. It’s a half success, the muscles in Ignis’ jaw clenching, but it’s only further proof that puns are the way in. Prompto leans over and pokes at Ignis’ cheek. “Laugh at my jokes. They’re funny and you know it.”

“Maybe we should try tickling him again?” Gladio reaches out, but the faint brush of his fingers against Ignis’ neck draws out nothing more than a shiver.

Noctis frowns. “It’s scary when you do that Iggy, how can you turn off being _ticklish_?”

“Don’t be such bird brains,” says Prompto, delighted when the others groan. “I’m telling you guys, puns are the way in! He was almost there-“

“-gods Prom these are horrible-“

“-we just gotta _hatch_ a plan-“

“-already tried this-“

There’s a snort, soft enough that it’s almost drowned out in the commotion, but Ignis’ lips are straining and they all fall quiet. Noctis and Gladio exchange a glance over Ignis’ head as he stares into the distance, refusing to look at any of them.

Prompto huffs, even as the smile never leaves his face, and perches his hands on his hips. “Are you egg-noring me Ignis? Don’t you like my egg-cellent jokes?”

“That’s fowl,” ribs Gladio and another pained noise slips out of Ignis, his shoulders tense and shaking as he tries to contain himself. Almost…

“You’re egging him on,” says Noctis, swatting at Gladio’s thigh. “Don’t get cocky Prom or your head will get too big for that bird’s nest of your hair.”

“I’ll whisk it,” laughs Prompto and it breaks.

Ignis laughs, clear and vibrant as the air clears, tension snapping in two. He bends over with the force of it, smiling wide as he laughs and laughs and when Prompto breaks out of the shock he giggles along with him. It’s rare to see Ignis so utterly carefree and soon they’re all smiling and laughing, Gladio clapping a hand on Prompto’s shoulder.

“Can’t believe you got him,” he says. “Omlettin’ it slide, _this_ time.”

“You are all utterly ridiculous,” says Ignis, wiping his eyes and not even bothering to hide the fondness in his voice. The smile lingers, bright and well-earned.

Noctis grins up at him lopsidedly. “Yeah but you love us.”

“Hmm, I suppose I do,” he says and tugs at Prompto’s hair. “Birds of a feather.”


	16. Promnis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **“Do you ever mean the things you say?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first promnis ficlet <3 This one is from a soft angst list. I hope you like it!
> 
> Soft angst, Tender

Ignis has come to appreciate the quiet nights spent camping beneath the skies of Duscae. He carefully packs away the dishes, all washed and dried, and listens to the chorus of crickets and faint crackle of the fire slumbering in its hearth. Noctis has long retired to the tent with Gladio not far behind and Ignis wipes his hands on a towel and makes to follow suit.

The glow of the haven runes casts everything in a soft blue and he almost doesn’t see him, sitting at the edge with his elbows propped up on his knees. From the set of Prompto’s shoulders Ignis can tell something is off. A strange reservation had surrounded him throughout the day and settles heavy in the dark.

As Ignis makes his way over beside him, he’s careful to make his footsteps heard. Prompto lifts his head as he levels himself down onto the cool stone beside him, their eyes meeting like stars in the night.

Ignis reaches out a hand, hesitating until Prompto makes no move to pull away, and tucks the long strands of his feathered hair behind his ear. His gloves are still discarded somewhere by the kitchenette and the direct contact sends shivers down his spine.

“What’s troubling you?”

Prompto sighs and leans into the touch. “I’m fine.”

The reflexive phrase echoes of past habits and Ignis grimaces. Prompto has always been one to weather storms alone, no matter how often he’s reminded of his support. Ignis strokes along his jaw and down along the tense line of his back. “It’s plain to see you’re not.”

“I can handle it. I’ll be okay.” 

Ignis furrows his brows, searching Prompto’s gaze to leave the window of opportunity open a second longer. When Prompto does nothing more than smile weakly in response, he withdraws his hand, nursing the ache sprouting up in his chest.

“Do you ever mean the things you say?” It comes out shaky, unfiltered and raw. A beat lingers between them, the air sucked out of the atmosphere between them. If Ignis could yank the words back through his teeth he would in an instant. “I apologize,” he says instead. “That was uncalled for.”

They sit in silence, watching the clouds pass overhead to shroud the moon before moving on to farther horizons.

“I mean it when I say I love you.” Prompto’s gaze is unwavering, determination lit behind it. Guilt festers between Ignis’ ribs, soothed only when Prompto reaches out to take his hand. “I’m sorry, too. I know you’re here for me.”

“Will you let me help you?” 

In his grip, Prompto’s hand is warm and steady, palms rough from the days spent in training and on the road. He nods and Ignis raises his hand to press a tender kiss to the back - a reassurance, a promise.

“I love you,” he whispers against his skin.

Prompto tucks his head into the curve of Ignis’ neck and they lean against each other, pillars of strength before the stretching shadows.


	17. Promptis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **“Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want with you.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I flew home on monday so I've been a little jetlagged, but here is a short little brotherhood prompt fill from tumblr for y'all. Hope you like it!
> 
> Soft angst, tender. Warning for implied bullying.

They’re actually studying for once when he finds it, their textbooks laid out across the coffee table as they hunch over their packets and worksheets. It’s getting dark outside, the early hour a testament to the cold weather, and Noctis wants nothing more than to curl up on the couch instead of finishing this homework. Prompto’s determination to stay on top of his grades is the only thing keeping him from doing so.

“Do you have the problem set from last weekend,” Noctis asks him.

Prompto pencils in another answer and stretches to crack his back. “Yeah, it’s in my bag.”

It’s as much permission as anything, and Noctis leans over to dig through the loose leaf papers stashed inside it. Noctis finds something he wasn’t looking for, scrawling red and black catching his eye just as Prompto seems to realize the danger.

“Wait!”

Noctis tugs the sheet free, the protest dying on Prompto’s lips as he reads it over. The handwriting is sloppy, slapped across the page in scrawled insult. Red flashes through his vision at the repeated slur, paper crumpling in hand.

When he looks up, Prompto is waiting silently, pale as a ghost.

“Who gave you this?” Noctis asks.

“Dunno, they stuffed it in there when I wasn’t looking.” Prompto doesn’t meet his eyes and Noctis feels a small fissure splinter in his heart crack. His friendship - his first friendship formed free of any obligation - has become a target, a source of discomfort, of pain.

“This is because of me,” he says. He’s always been aware of the eyes watching them at school, but he never thought to care. It never manifested as anything confronting before. Swallowing around the sand in his throat he says, “Maybe we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t.” Prompto’s voice comes out shaky as he reaches out, covers Noctis’ clenched fist to ease the paper away and replace it with his hand. “Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want with you.”

He smiles crookedly and Noctis feels his lips weakly reflect it out of habit. “I’ve waited too long for this to give you up over some dick’s half-assed hate mail.”

With a sigh, Noctis relaxes his shoulders and squeezes Prompto’s hand in reassurance. “Next time you tell me,” he says, no room for argument.

Prompto nods, a soft flush blooming on his cheeks when Noctis smiles at him softly and brings up his hand to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. Deep down he knows there won’t be a next time if he has anything to do with it.


	18. Polyship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **4\. We slept in the same bed for space reasons but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very hard to resist a sleepy Noctis. Soft sap ahead!

A shift in the blankets stirs Prompto from the fog of his dreams. He’s always been a light sleeper, ready to take on the day in a moment’s notice, and he rubs the tackiness from his eyes. Across the darkened tent he spies Ignis, sat up and rummaging through one of their packs. His thin t-shirt stretches across the expanse of his shoulders and Prompto shifts at the sudden dryness in his mouth.

Noctis stirs in his arms, flyaway hair blocking the view as his eyes blink open hesitantly. There’s a vulnerability in the space before dawn, in the way his pliant body rolls closer to curl against Prompto’s, and his heart rockets in his chest - surely loud enough to wake the forest.

The body behind him shifts, arm tightening around Prompto’s waist as Gladio chuckles. “Someone’s feeling needy,” he says, voice low and raspy, and the sound reverberates in the quiet.

He shifts to pull away, arm slipping from where it’s wedged between Prompto and Noctis when a hand grabs him with sleep-clumsy fingers.

“No,” says Noctis, barely above a whisper, but firm in its command. He opens one eye to meet Gladio’s gaze, half-lidded and unwavering.

Gladio stands strong for but a moment before he folds. “Alright, princess,” he says, extending his hand across them both to run through Noctis’ tangled hair. “Little longer won’t hurt.”

Preening into the touch, Noctis shuffles in his brief awareness to cast about the tent until his gaze falls on Ignis. He reaches out, searching fingers snagging the back of his shirt to tug firmly.

“Stay.”

A fond smile contradicts Ignis’ sigh as he tucks away his glasses, helpless to follow their prince’s wish. He settles down against his back, reveling in the warmth of Noctis’ skin and tucking his nose against his shoulder. His hand meets Gladio’s in the middle, squeezing once before relaxing.

The soft blue of the haven fire surrounds them, peaceful as the quiet sunrise. They sleep late that day - a rarity between the endless hunts and travel - and it’s hard to regret it when they wake once more, their heart tucked safe between them.


	19. Promptis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"Why are you so stubborn?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a word generator to help kickstart an idea and it pulled up ‘sting’. Something short and sweet to get myself going :D

“Ouch stop it!”

“Hold still then!”

Prompto jerks away and Noctis sighs. “It hurts!” he cries, cradling his arm gently.

“I need to get the stinger out so it’ll feel better.” Noctis tries to reach for him again, stomping a foot when Prompto pulls back. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“I didn’t mean to startle it!” Freezing in place, Prompto’s eyes well up in distress. “Noctis, what if I killed it! I’m a murderer!”

It’s all the opening Noctis needs, lunging for him and gripping his arm as he scrapes the stinger out. Prompto winces at the pain, but Noctis is careful not to tug it and risk pushing more venom under his skin. He’s grateful he picked up the skill from Ignis, from when they were younger and would roam the citadel gardens all summer long, though he cried for hours as a child. 

He tosses the stinger in the trash and wets a cloth. “You’re not a murderer Prom. Only honey bees die if they lose their stinger.”

“Oh.” Prompto sniffles as Noctis washes the sting clean and covers it with a bandage covered in chocobos. “That’s good then.”

As gently as he can, Noctis leans down and presses a kiss atop the yellow plaster. “All better.”

Prompto giggles and wipes beneath his eyes. “Where would I be without you?”

“Sounds like you’d be on the run for a murder you didn’t commit.”

A full-hearted laugh spills from Prompto’s lips, as crystalline as the summer dew. That’s how he should always look - happy and carefree. Noctis wraps him in his arms, careful of the sting, and smothers his pleased grin against Prompto’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked these! I'd love to hear your thoughts <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/countpaperstars) | [writing blog](http://countingpaperstars.tumblr.com) | [tumblr](http://thenameisfame.tumblr.com)


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